


Affections Dark as Erebus

by bittenfeld



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Mirror Universe, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Brutality, Explicit Sexual Content, Forced Mind Meld, M/M, Rough Sex, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:29:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1596626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New - Final - Chapter 2:  What happens when the mate-bond between Kirk and Spock gets tangled with that of their mirror counterparts during the inter-phase transfer mishap?<br/>In the Mirror universe, Spock takes Kirk roughly – the only way Kirk likes it – and finally forces him to acknowledge their mate-bond.</p><p>This is the second of a four-part series, each dealing with a different pairing<br/>#1 – Brightly as a King   (Mirror Kirk / Spock)<br/>#2 – Affections Dark as Erebus  (Mirror Kirk / Mirror Spock)<br/>#3 – My Soul Upon the Forfeit  (Kirk / Mirror Spock)<br/>#4 – A Secret Harmony  (Kirk / Spock)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kirk strode out of Detention feeling no better than when he’d entered. Spock would remain locked in the agony booth until his pain spilled over to Kirk through the link. Only then would Kirk order him released – and perhaps even then only for a respite, depending on how Kirk felt at the time.

Damn that Vulcan mongrel! He’d brought this discipline upon himself. There had been no reason for him to take that human bastard – just sheer Vulcan cussedness and maybe some perverse delight in cuckolding his bond-mate; taunting him by taking that bastard Kirk, and then having the gall to greet his own captain in the transporter room and inquire solicitously if he were unhurt by the interphase ordeal. Kirk had not answered, but had immediately escorted his first-officer down to Detention.

And now Kirk strode purposefully toward the OQ deck and Spock’s quarters. If he’d expected some perverse delight of his own from punishing the Vulcan, it eluded him. He’d even demanded that the Vulcan strip in front of the guards before entering the booth, but even the added humiliation had done nothing to assuage the fury and blackness which Kirk felt, knowing that another had usurped his place in his adjutant’s bed.

Damn that fucking Vulcan!

Kirk entered his exec’s quarters; strode directly into the bed-chamber. No sign that the act had happened; bed made precisely, all objects in perfect order. All evidence disposed of. Damn him!

Damn him. Spock was the one who’d insisted they bond, insisted on exclusivity. Yet then as soon as Kirk was gone – for just a few hours! – he had found another human to dally with. Obviously the alien sonofabitch enjoyed human flesh. Who the hell did he think he was?

And then Kirk thought about another Vulcan, another Spock. Arrogant frigid bastard. He would have liked to put that Spock into the booth for awhile too, pay him back for his damned superiority. Hell, did all Vulcans come like that? And if he ever got his hands on that other Kirk…

There was nothing more to see in his exec’s quarters, so with a final mocking gaze around, Kirk marched out. Now he would go up to the bridge, see how well it had been running without him for the past eight-and-a-half hours. No doubt Sulu had the con now, relieving Spock who so courteously had gone to the transporter room to await his captain’s return.

The turbo-lift deposited him on the bridge. As the doors opened, Lieutenant Leslie at the engineering console saw him first and announced, “Captain on the bridge!”

All of his officers stiffened to salute, but Kirk hardly acknowledged their greetings. How many of them had so blindly saluted his imposter as well? He wondered. Blind fools. At least on the other Enterprise, for all their spinelessness, they were not such blind idiots as to mistake another man for their own captain.

Sure enough, Sulu sat in the command seat. Now he rose to return it to its rightful owner, but didn’t he delay just a fraction too long, and wasn’t that smile of greeting for his superior officer just a little too contemptuous? The Asian helmsman was getting a tad too comfortable in that chair, it seemed. Kirk decided that he would deal with the man soon, but not right now. Right now he had eight-and-a-half hours to catch up on.

“Uhura,” he addressed his communications officer. “Inform Starfleet that the interphase situation has now returned to normal, and that I’ll follow through with a detailed report within the hour, then give me an overview of all communications with Starfleet during our absence.”

“Yes sir,” the Bantu woman responded quickly. She had returned directly to her station from the transporter, while the captain had delayed fifteen minutes to deal with a certain insubordinate first-officer.

The main view-screen showed that the ship was still orbiting the Halkan planet.

“Mister Sulu, were the targets destroyed on the planet per the Prime Orders?” Kirk inquired.

The helmsman didn’t answer as quickly as Lieutenant Uhura had. “Uh, no, sir. The captain – the, uh, other captain – refused to, and then Mister Spock chose to delay and utilize all ship’s resources to the task of rescuing you.”

… _I’ll just bet he did_ … Kirk noted to himself … _all the resources between his Vulcan legs_...

Then he asked of the Asian, “When will we fly over the primary target again, Lieutenant?”

The younger man glanced over the CRTs at his console. “We’re almost there, sir. In three-point-seven minutes, primary target will come into torpedo range again.”

“Arm torpedos, Mister, and fire when ready.”

“Aye aye, sir.” The lieutenant busied himself at the weapons display.

“Captain,” the communications officer said, “here is the review you ordered.” She handed him a computer pad.

Without a word he took the pad. Nothing too surprising caught his eyes – obviously Starfleet was just as confused as the crew regarding the imposters… _interesting_ , he thought: the first time that Spock had notified Command regarding the situation was five-and-three-quarters hours after the incident had occurred – just about the same time that he had decided to become a little more intimately acquainted with that alien human bastard… _goddamn that Vulcan_!...

A sudden itchy sensation washed over his body, like spiders crawling all over his skin. Abruptly he squirmed, then the sensation surged harder, like electric currents zagging through his surface nerves… _damn! Spock in the booth_ – his torture was spilling over the link into Kirk’s body. The sensation rose to pain, and Kirk slammed his hand down on the intercom button on his chair arm. “Detention!” he almost yelled, “release Spock! Now, goddammit, now!!”

“Yes sir,” Lieutenant Greene said, as the pain expanded to excruciating burning fire – then winked out…

… but not before Kirk was half out of his chair in burning agony; then the fire was gone, but an ache throbbed dully in his left temple… _oh goddamn, he had almost passed out_ …

“Sir,” Greene was calling over the intercom, “Mister Spock is unconscious. What are your orders?”

Kirk was squeezing the bridge of his nose in an effort to counteract the pain in his head… _orders_ … _orders_ … “Get him into Sickbay, but someone tell him as soon as he comes to, that he’d better be up here on the bridge a half-hour from now, or he’s going back into the booth for another session.” That was a lie – if Spock went back into the booth, Kirk would feel the agony with him – but Kirk didn’t want the Vulcan to think he was off the hook just yet, because he wasn’t.

“Yes sir,” the detention lieutenant acknowledged.

And twenty-seven minutes later, the turbo-lift doors opened, and a very pain-weary Vulcan limped onto the bridge. His right arm hung at his side, his right leg dragged a little. Olive-colored mottling blemished his bearded face and the backs of his hands. His left hand steadied himself against the railing.

Kirk barely glanced at him, then glanced away.

Spock started to speak. “Captain…”

“Station,” Kirk interrupted without looking back.

Silently Spock walked the few steps to his console, holding onto the railing, and carefully lowered himself into his chair. Kirk ignored him, ignored the pain that quivered through their link.

“Captain,” Sulu announced, “the second target city will come into range in six-point-two minutes. Shall I arm torpedos, sir?”

“Arm torpedos, Mister Sulu, and fire when ready.”

“Aye, sir.”

And then Kirk glanced briefly over the back of his chair. “Oh, Mister Spock,” he observed casually, too casually, “after you had ascertained that the impostor was not me, and you’d regained control of the ship, why didn’t you destroy the Halkan cities as per the Prime Orders? I’m just curious.”

Something beyond the physical pain creased the Vulcan’s brow, beyond what the agony booth had done to him. He answered carefully. “Your rescue took priority, Captain. I was more concerned with that than the Halkan resistance. I knew we could target the cities in another fly-by later; however, the transdimensional rift was shortly set to close permanently, and you would have been lost forever.”

“Oh, concern for your captain, is that what you call it?”

Spock said no more, but sat at his station, carefully-composed expression holding back a show of inner pain and distress.

Despite his own headache, Kirk smiled to himself. He could sense the Vulcan’s pain, and it amused him. He wanted the Vulcan to suffer. Through the bond he could feel Spock’s pain, frustration, and… sexual tension?... yes, of course, now with pon farr upon him, he required sexual release. Frequent sexual release. The little afternoon dalliance was not enough. No doubt the Vulcan was tensely awaiting the end of shift so he could retreat to his cabin with Kirk, and engage in some hard fucking, yet all the while he’d be fantasizing about this afternoon’s phantom lover. Warmth seeped into Kirk’s groin, as he empathized with Spock’s physical vibrations. He felt blood rushing into his own cock in mimicking response – damn, that felt good! He could hardly wait to get by himself somewhere – alone – and work his own begging flesh while imagining fucking a certain Vulcan bastard – or maybe two Vulcan bastards. But he wasn’t ready yet to allow Spock that same relief.

“Mister Spock,” he commented pleasantly, “since you spent an inordinate amount of time away from your post this shift, you do intend to work a double shift, don’t you? … You, uh, do admit that you were off the bridge for an inordinate amount of time this afternoon?”

Spock accepted the gentle threat bleakly. “Yes sir.”

And Kirk felt a little wash of satisfaction settle inside.  
* * * * *

After shift and after dinner, Kirk returned to his cabin. He felt better now, better than he had this afternoon – damn! what he felt was horny. That other Spock had fucked the living-daylights out of him this afternoon, and now here he was, ready for some more! He’d always had a good appetite for sex, but today he felt a helluva bigger appetite than normal. Obviously he was picking up from Spock – so this was what it was like being mate to a Vulcan in heat. He hadn't planned on giving Spock any release to ease his suffering, but now he thought he just might let the man off the hook a little early so they could spent the evening fucking each others’ brains out.

But not just yet. He could feel the Vulcan’s frustration and discomfort, and that gave Kirk almost as much pleasure as the throbbing pressure in his crotch. He’d let Spock suffer a little longer.  
* * * * *

A noise woke him from sleep. Sharply he pushed himself up in bed. Someone was in the room with him, someone who smelled of Vulcan spice and fruity tang – suddenly the familiar scent was arousing him harder than it ever had before. He palmed the light-switch on the wall near the bed, and the cabin illumination flared on.

A very naked Vulcan stood by the bathroom door adjoining their quarters; a very naked Vulcan with a very powerful erection. His sallow skin was still mottled with slight surface hemorrhage induced by the agony booth, and his right leg still limped a little as he approached the captain’s bed, but the dark face no longer bore any expression of subservience to his superior officer.

“Spock, “Kirk addressed his adjutant.

The Vulcan interrupted him. “It is time, Captain.”

“Time?” the human feigned ignorance. “Time for what? What are you doing off the bridge, Mister? I ordered you to work two full shifts.”

“I took myself off,” Spock replied simply. “A headache and the ache in my loins are interfering with my level of performance. I must mate with you now, Captain. Duty to the ship is no longer of primary importance.” He stood beside the bed now, heavy swollen genitals at Kirk’s eye level.

Subconsciously Kirk shifted away an inch. “You’re talking insubordination, Commander. I should have you flogged!”

“I do not speak insubordination, Captain,” the other man contradicted. “Pon farr is upon me. Starfleet regulations acknowledge, that for Vulcan crewmembers, that takes precedence over all other duties and commitments. It is affecting me, my behavior, my attitude. And through the bond it is affecting you as well, in an unexpected manner. Your attitude toward me has been altered.”

Mockery pulled the lines of Kirk’s face. “Is that your assumption, Mister Spock? The fact that you fucked another man in my place, and liked it, couldn’t have anything to do with my attitude, could it?”

Kirk saw the Vulcan organ twitch, the bearded face tighten in mental pain; and a sudden desire washed over him to take that alien organ into his mouth and roughly suck it dry.

Spock could sense his desires as well. Intensity furrowed the high brow. “Captain, I cannot control any longer. I have certain needs to be met. Your… counterpart met them temporarily. But the fire continues in me. We must mate now.”

“What if I refuse?” Kirk taunted. “Obviously I’m not good enough for you anymore. Why don’t you go back to your fantasy lover? – you had such a good fuck with him before.”

“You cannot refuse, Jim. We are bonded. You too feel the madness of plak tow. You have no choice.”

Kirk commented dryly, “It seems there’ve been a number of recent concerns that I’ve had no choice about. You know, maybe I feel like putting you back in the booth for awhile. I like to feel you suffer.”

“You shall feel more than that, if you put me back. From now on, you will feel any pain that you inflict upon me as though you were doing it to yourself. I deliberately shielded you before – I was willing to take your punishment for my action. But now in pon farr, our link is growing stronger, and I can no longer shield effectively, nor do I choose to be punished any longer.”

And then slowly, carefully, Spock’s strong hand gripped his large erect organ, and began pumping it rhythmically.

Kirk watched in fascination. He had never seen the Vulcan so huge before. In the three years that they had been lovers, he’d certainly seen his partner erect, but nothing like this, nothing like what the fires of pon farr were doing to the Vulcan. He wondered how badly he’d be ripped.

He wondered how hard a fuck he’d get out of it...

  
 _to be continued_ …

 

  _“The motions of his spirit are dull as night,_

_And his affections dark as Erebus:_

_Let no such man be trusted.”        – William Shakespeare (1564-1616)_

_“Merchant of Venice” Act V, sc 1_

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Mirror universe, Spock takes Kirk roughly – the only way Kirk likes it – and finally forces him to acknowledge their mate-bond.

The slender hard-muscled body worked before him; hand firmly, slowly, working the swollen organ into even greater erection. Lubricating fluid leaked from the tip; Kirk watched the pearly pale-greenish mucus dribble over the manipulating fingers, and unconsciously he licked dry lips in anticipation and a little hesitation. Then he could not keep himself from leaning forward, almost hypnotized, and touching his lips to the slippery head. Spock's free hand gripped Kirk by the hair, jerked the human to himself; at the same time, he jammed his ready organ into Kirk’s mouth, and pumped hard inside his captain.

Lying on his side, the bed-covers half-off his own naked body, Kirk sucked eagerly, while his hands jerked at his own throbbing meat. The Vulcan cock rammed repeatedly into his tight wet mouth, until in a sudden frenzy Spock's fluid spurted into Kirk’s mouth, and Kirk’s fluid exploded all over his belly. For long minutes, both men panted in utter exhaustion, Kirk sprawled face-up on the mattress and Spock standing beside the bed; then Spock climbed onto the bed and lay down on top of his lover. Head lowered to Kirk’s face, both hands gripped Kirk’s hair, then a Vulcan tongue forced its way into an open mouth, tasted Vulcan semen, while human seed smeared between their panting sweaty bodies.

Roughly Kirk broke the kiss. Anger tautened the muscular body beneath the Vulcan’s weight, as Kirk demanded bitterly, “Why did you take the other Kirk? You knew I would be back soon.”

Spock's fingers did not release gold-shot brown hair. “I did not know for certain that you would indeed be back. I told you, I am in heat now, heat which I cannot control. I have needs, and he was able to meet some of them which you are not.”

“I satisfy you needs, I am your bond-mate.”

“You are my bond-mate, but you do not satisfy all of my needs. You mock our bond, you mock me. You satisfy my body and take your own satisfaction, but that is all you do. You do not satisfy the mind or the soul.”

“… and I suppose he does, that bastard twin of mine?”

“Yes.”

“Now you mock _me._ You took him, knowing that I would feel everything you did to him. But I’m the one you bonded with – you forced me to bond with you, and now you’re stuck with me, Mister. Goddamn you to take another!”

But even as he spoke, Kirk could feel Spock's rousing again; mentally as well as physically he could sense the Vulcan already becoming potent once more, and synchronously Kirk felt himself surpassing his own normal recovery time. Genitals swelled hot and heavy, throbbing painful pressure between his legs, _oh god he needed release, he needed it so badly_. He started to reach down to take himself; but Spock gripped his wrists, pinned his hands over his head, hard Vulcan genitals rammed against his groin. The physical sensations and the mental demands nearly drove Kirk mad.

“Goddamn you rutting Vulcan,” he swore, “take me now!”

Another hard thrust against his groin.

A calm retort. “Indeed, I shall take you, Captain… in every way. Before pon farr is through, we shall join body, mind, and soul.” With one hand, Spock continued to pin the human’s wrists; with the other, he reached between pale thighs, forced fingers between smooth buttocks.

Kirk’s hips bucked at the digital penetration, face tightened in resentment. “I say no! I’m your captain. You don’t own me!”

The finger manipulated him firmly, possessively. “On the contrary, Jim, I do own you. That is what it means to be the bond-mate of a Vulcan male.”

“Damn you, you tricked me into this. All these years you’ve been mocking me – acting like a boot-licking errand-boy, all the while considering me your property. Well, I won’t let you! I’m sorry I ever let you talk me into this fucking relationship.”

“You do not regret our bond, Captain – nor do I. Our telepathic empathy has made us the most formidable command team in the Empire. Our relationship is an effective symbiotic union. You would do nothing to imperil its continuation.”

“You’re wrong, mister!” Kirk bucked against the intimate probing. “I’ll break your damn bond no matter what it takes!...”

“No, Captain,” – the Vulcan released him, reared over him dominantly – “you shall not.”

Warily Kirk pressed back against the bed as Vulcan fingers reached for his face, Vulcan lips neared his mouth. Deep mesmeric voice. “Your mind to my mind, James Kirk, your thoughts to my thoughts…”

Kirk felt the Vulcan presence overshadow him, overpower him. Searching tendrils of thought probed into his mind, he felt them like fiery little fingers spreading open the crevices of his brain, taking whatever they wanted, possessing him in every private manner, owning him… _damn you, get out of my mind_!...

He fought with what strength he had, but Spock forced through anyway… _damn you_!... the human swore… _stop raping my mind_!...

… _I do not rape your mind_ … the Vulcan words penetrated directly… _I merely take the mind of my bondmate as I shall now take his body_ …

And then momentarily Spock withdrew the meld-touch to take Kirk by the shoulders and roll him over. In that moment, Kirk tried to wrest free, but Spock grappled him down, pushed him prone on the bed, held him down with a hand planted firmly between his shoulder-blades, kneed his legs apart, then worked a finger into his rectum again. Kirk moaned, wrenched again, but his resistance was losing its steam beneath the rough handling which always aroused him so insanely. The finger slid out of him, then Spock smacked him hard on the rump, stingingly, painfully. In responsive helplessness, the human’s erect penis squirmed, begging for release.

Spock did not give him release, but rather lay down on top of him now, Vulcan lips pressed hard against a sweat-tacky human neck. Again Kirk bucked as two fingers entered him now, bucked but didn’t protest as much as before, and the fingers found his prostate and massaged it.

And Kirk came all over the mattress in his second explosive orgasm of the evening. Weakly he groaned utter exhaustion, panting desperately. Sweat dribbled between his eyes… two climaxes so close together… his heart throbbed as if it might burst.

And still the fingers probed him. The Vulcan knew what he liked. He felt like he was drowning in sensation, the Vulcan’s hypnotic presence, lips and teeth working his nape.

And then the fingers withdrew, and a huge swollen shaft poked at his anus. Kirk grunted, a series of little noises, as the leaking glans prodded into his opening. He gritted his teeth against the burning stabs of pain, and spread his legs wider to stretch the orifice. With business-like determination, Spock rhythmically thrust his hips, pushing into wet rectum inch by slow inch, while Kirk winced and grunted and kept pushing himself back fraction by fraction to envelop the huge intruder. Exquisite pain / pleasure surged all through Kirk; he tossed his head back, body rocking toward complete junction, the large phallus now ramming hard into the tender channel, against the sensitive prostate… _damn_! that Vulcan knew his weaknesses!...

“Fuck me, Spock!” the human hissed, eyes closed, sweaty body pounding back, “oh god fuck me!”

And without a word, the Vulcan increased the rhythm and the vigorousness, fully ensheathed now… pulling out to the ridged head, then slamming back in all the way, over and over; Kirk’s body jerking with each thrust.

… _oh god_! Kirk nearly went wild with the sensations, Spock used him roughly, brutally, _oh god_ he could never get enough of that first-officer of his… Spock was ripping him, but he didn’t care, he didn’t care about anything except that big Vulcan cock ramming into him, and then he was going to ram his own prick into a hot Vulcan ass… _oh god_ even yet he could feel his cock filling again, _so soon_! _so soon_ … some of his panting breath expelled as a chuckle: if this kept up much longer, he’d probably die of a heart attack – and be supremely happy doing it… “come on, Spock,” he gasped, “come on, fuck me!...”

And Spock fucked him. Fucked him half-way across the galaxy, amid gasps and grunts, hot Vulcan semen shooting into the human’s insides, bodies jerking hard, until finally both partners collapsed limply in a heap among the tangled bed-clothes… sweat-drenched bodies, tortured hearts, lungs…

… and Kirk knew this was why he would never break the link with his second-in-command, even if he could – no one else could fuck him like that – not Marlena, not any of the other women he’d ever had, not the few men he’d experimented with. Giving or receiving, that Vulcan exec of his matched everything he had, and then more, so much more.

Immediately after ejaculation, Spock's penis had gone flaccid up in Kirk’s rectum, but even now, a bare minute later, began to erect once more as well… dear god, he couldn’t take it again so soon, not his bruised ass, not his abraded prick…

Beneath Spock's weight, he wriggled a little on the bed, as his hardening penis squirmed against the mattress.

And then he felt Spock's fingers latch onto his face again and reëstablish the meld. Effortlessly the Vulcan mind-probe tore through whatever defenses Kirk had left, right down to the tender core of Kirk’s private self. Kirk groaned aloud. Only once before had they melded this deep, and that was during the creation of the bond itself over three years before.

The probing tendrils searched him all over, laid him open, explored him more intimately than the phallus squirming up his ass. They found his physical pain from the intercourse, lessened it, attenuated it until the human body relaxed a little, then slipped further along sensory pathways to the pleasure centers in his mind, sensually stimulating the neural plexi until Kirk nearly fainted with ecstasy.

Firmly Spock's free hand began to stroke him, massage his body. Kirk moved beneath the touch that rubbed his corded muscles and sleek flesh, while the meld-tendrils caressed his mind. Spock was making him feel so good, so good…

… _you are my bond-mate_ … the Vulcan mind-voice whispered… _that is a simple statement of unchangeable fact_ … _I own you, every part of you_ …

… _yes_ … _you own me, take me_ … _take me_ … “No!” Kirk spoke aloud, anger abruptly surging upward once again against the hypnotic passion. “No! you don’t own me!” He jerked ineffectively to break the Vulcan’s physical and mental hold on him. “… goddammit, I’m a starship captain, and you’re my subordinate, and don’t you goddamn forget it!...”

But the meld only sank deeper; Spock's body covered his possessively. Futilely Kirk humped to free himself, but Spock just rode him down, as he’d ridden him sexually not five minutes before.

Finally Kirk’s struggles lessened. He trembled with exhaustion. “Spock…” he said out loud again, and there was weary bitterness in his tone, “are you trying to break me?”

Spock released the meld, slid his arms around Kirk; hands slipped between Kirk’s chest and the mattress. “No, Captain,” he replied surely. “I have no desire to break you. I bonded with you because you are my equal – I would have you no other way.”

“Then why,” – and the words came out between clenched teeth – “did you take that other Kirk? To show me that you could?”

Behind him the dark head shook. “No, Jim. I took him to learn what he and his first-officer share. You are satisfied with our command unity and your sexual gratification. But I must have more. I need your soul. There is a part of you of which you yourself are only vaguely aware, a part that wants me, a part that doesn’t fight me. I sensed it strongly in him, and I sense it in you as well, but deeply hidden. You will not willingly surrender it to me, so I intend to find it myself and bring it out.”

“I’m not that other Kirk,” the human of this universe insisted wearily. “Don’t make me like him.”

“Agreed, Captain. You are not that other Kirk.” A strong slender hand grasped the half-erect human cock; the throbbing Vulcan cock renewed power-thrusts up inside the human’s semen-slicked channel, while the other hand locked onto the meld again; and Spock whispered into dark-gold hair: “You are _my_ Kirk.”

Kirk’s body went limp beneath the onslaught. “All right,” he finally acquiesced, “you’ve proven that you can overpower me mentally and physically. So take me. I surrender.”

Penile thrusts lessened momentarily; Vulcan lips near a small rounded human ear. “I shall take you, Jim, but it is not surrender. You will understand that, t'hy'la, before this time is over… you will understand.”

And then once more, the Vulcan absorbed his mate – body, mind, and soul.  
* * * * *

And in another universe, another Vulcan crawled into his bondmate’s bed to cuddle close and whisper in the human’s ear, “It is time, Captain.”

And the human smiled in drowsy delight.

   
* * * * * **FINIS** * * * * *

  _“The motions of his spirit are dull as night,_

_And his affections dark as Erebus:_

_Let no such man be trusted.”        – William Shakespeare (1564-1616)_

_“Merchant of Venice” Act V, sc 1_

 


End file.
